


Children of the Stars

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Family, Gen, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 01:43:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4121611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They burned brighter than the stars and eventually burnt themselves out. All except for the one who had to watch them all fall. A story of each the Black children as they rose higher than the stars but war takes too much and asks too much. Eventually, they all fell. </p><p>All except for one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ownership

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Cross Posted on fanfiction.net

Bellatrix knelt on the hard stone floor, keeping her head lowered, her hands steady, and fighting to keep the smirk off her face. She could feel his dark eyes on her, studying her. The Dark Lord debating on whether to let her join his closest confidants. She was half-tempted to help him along the process, it would be next to nothing after what she did to get his attention in the first place, but she didn't, she held her tongue. Bellatrix could do that, wait here patiently, be as silent as he wanted her to be, and be the person he wanted. She always got she wanted, no matter how long it took. Or the costs.

Her mother hadn't wanted her to do this, told her that it was no woman's place to join the fight, that she would be better off going to Rodolphus and spending more time with her betrothed. Bellatrix had just smiled at her and left the room without a word.

Tom Riddle had been starting to make noise in the Wizarding world, with his opinions about blood purity and the extermination of muggles. There was nothing new about his words, almost every pureblood family had voiced them at some point in their history, no what caught Bellatrix' attention were the man's actions. There were rumours, from more than reliable sources, about what he's done to prove his points, and sometimes to test someone's loyalty.

He had been slowly gaining followers amongst the more vocal of the purebloods, through connections and whispered words during Ministry parties. Bellatrix didn't care much for the methods of old men. She preferred her own.

In the end it had been ridiculously simple to find out where he lived. Actually getting inside without him noticing, had been considerably trickier. His house was shielded by powerful and complex wards, layered upon each other and many of them would most likely alert the owner once it was breached. Bellatrix didn't mind though; she would've lost respect for the man if it had been anything less. Besides she had always liked good challenges.

"Rise Bellatrix," he said in his high-pitched voice and Bellatrix rose.

She raised her head and studied the man as he swept past her. His dark hair and pale skin might've belonged to a Black but he wasn't, he was something lower, something beneath her, that was obvious enough with his brown eyes and muggle name. Still, it wasn't as if she didn't respect him, and his methods. And even she couldn't deny his attractiveness.

"Please sit," he said taking one of the seats in the parlour and gesturing to the one directly beside him.

Bellatrix headed over, keeping her expression unreadable and her movements slow. Tom Riddle was proving to be impossible to read and Bellatrix had always liked a challenge.

"Of course," she said and sat down primly and crossing her legs.

"You want to join me?" he asked getting right to the point and Bellatrix let a smile creep into her features.

"Nothing would give me greater honor than joining your cause," she said lowering her eyes in a gesture which might've been interpreted as shy, or perhaps coy. The Dark Lord apparently chose neither.

"So says every other pureblood worth their name," he said waving his hand dismissively. "Not many would do as you did though." He sounded curious, like she was a puzzle that he found vaguely challenging.

Bellatrix felt the smile turn into a smirk. "I thought you'd like it My Lord," she said, letting her eyes wander across the room. It was well furnished but had an air of being new. Obviously not the one from an old pureblood family.

"It was certainly interesting," said Tom Riddle amusement tainting his voice. "Although quite unorthodox. Ms. Black, how could you have been sure you would have survived?"

Bellatrix laughed. "I could survive anything, My Lord." she assured him.

"I don't doubt that," he said, a flicker of a smile on his face. "To go back to my original question, why do you want to join my cause?"

Bellatrix tilted her head, considering her answer. "I believe in it," she said. "I believe in what you're saying about the superiority of the wizarding blood over muggle, although that is hardly the only reason, many purebloods have expressed their feelings on the subject. No I am impressed by the fact that you are prepared to do what is necessary to keep the Wizarding world free from the taint of muggle blood." Of course there was another reason, but she didn't have to say it out loud yet, so she didn't.

Tom Riddle was considering her with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Anything else Ms. Black?" he asked sounding slightly unimpressed. He had apparently noticed the words she wasn't saying.

"I want to see make scream," she said looking straight into Tom Riddle's eyes. "I want to see the muggles and traitors scream and burn and thrash on the ground. I want to be the one doing it. You are the only one giving me the option of doing so while being protected from Azkaban."

"Interesting," he said, resting his chin on his hand thoughtfully.

"Can I be assured of your loyalty?" he asked after a few moments of silence.

"As long as you let me do what I please with the muggles and blood traitors then I pledge my loyalty to you," she bore into his eyes and keeping her voice low and serious, "and Blacks never go back on their word."

The Dark Lord nodded and rose gracefully out of his chair.

"Hold out your left arm," he commanded and Bellatrix rising from her seat as well, did.

He pushed her sleeve up and pressed the tip of his wand to her skin.

"Mosmorde," he murmured, almost reverently and Bellatrix felt a sharp pain shoot across her arm from where the wand touched her skin. She forced herself to keep perfectly silent and her expression unreadable. She saw as dark marks quickly spread and she nearly drew away in surprise but she didn't. She kept her body completely still. The dark marks spread in thin tendrils across her skin, slowly twisting and spreading. Slowly and painfully, Bellatrix saw the pattern forming on her pale skin: A snake twisting towards a dark skull.

Tom Riddle released her arm abruptly.

"You are mine now," he said and Bellatrix allowed herself to smile.

She belonged to nobody. Though she might allow for him to be right. One day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up Andromeda!


	2. Fairy Tales

She stared at the small figure of Theodore Tonks. There was nothing remarkable about him, blonde hair, gentle blue eyes, but he was muggle-born and that made all the difference. In the end it was the only thing that mattered.

People might call this unwise, and most, including her entire family with perhaps the exception of one uncle and one cousin, would say a complete and utter disgrace. Andromeda considered them unworthy of the name of House Slytherin. What was the point of being part of the house of the cunning if you would let yourself be fooled by petty prejudices and shallow lies. She considered herself above all of that.

The man was completely besotted by her, and why shouldn't he? She was beautiful, clever, haughty, charming, worlds away from the likes of him, and when she began paying him the least bit of attention with a whispered word here and there, a shy smile, a gentle touch. It had been ridiculously easy from there.

"We should go," she said to him, as they lay in each other's arms by the lake. It was their last day at Hogwarts, the last day and Andromeda had no intention of leaving the platform with her sisters. "We should run away together, like we always planned."

That got a laugh out of him. He thought she was joking. They had planned it since winter, both knowing that her parents disapproved of their relationship. It had been no more than a passing folly for Ted but Andromeda didn't intend for it to stay that way. "I'm serious," she said, making her face more easygoing and relaxed.

He looked at her, searching her face for something, what it actually was Andromeda had trouble guessing.

"You are serious," he half-accused.

She sat up and looked him straight in the eye, those wide, innocent, blue eyes. She nearly felt guilty for using someone so hopelessly naive, but she didn't. They were in the throngs of war and there is no place for regret.

"Yes Ted I am," she said as bluntly as possible, at least this was the truth. "I'm sick of hiding this, us. We both know my family won't allow it so there's really no point in asking. Let's do this now."

"Are you sure about this Andy? I mean thinking about it's one thing actually doing it? What would my mother say?" he asked, the last part almost to himself, all wide eyed innocence, Andromeda smiled at him indulgently.

"Of course Ted," she said stroking his arm gently. "We're together aren't we? I'm not letting my family come between us, not now and never again. And as for your mother, from what I've heard from you, she wouldn't mind so much."

"But your family, they'd never app-" he protested weakly, all caring and kindness. The man couldn't have been anything but Hufflepuff.

"You're my family now," she said before pressing a gentle kiss on his lips. This was too easy, much too easy that it almost brought a laugh to her lips. "I want to go home with you Ted. I want to do this right now, just like one of those muggle stories of yours."

That got a laugh out of him. He always liked it when she talked about the muggle world with him, he seemed to find it amusing, like a parent teaching a small child.

"Run away together," he said a smile on his lips and laughter in his voice. "And live happily ever after?"

"Yes," she said and felt genuinely confused when he laughed loudly. "What?"

"You act as if the world's a fairy tale Andy," he said. "It's amazing that you still can, with everything that's going on."

"Maybe we need to act like the world's a fairy tale," she reasoned, as she lay back down on his chest and ran a hand through his hair. "To drive away some of the darkness."

He sighed softly before catching her hand and pressing a soft kiss to it. "Maybe you're right," he said. He tilted her chin so that she was looking up to him, staring at his blue eyes that held no hint that people of his kind were dying around them. The guilt was bubbling up inside her again, but she pushed it down easily enough.

"When I get off the train Ted, I'm getting off with you," she told him, looking him straight in the eye.

"Have you thought this through Andy, really thought this through, not just want this right now promises that you're gonna regret tomorrow?"

"I have," she told him sincerely. "Believe it or not I've thought about this for quite a while now."

"And?"

"And I know that I want to have my fairy tale with you instead of marrying some nasty git I hardly know that my parents promised me to. I also know that this is the only chance we'll get, the only chance we'll ever get at even succeeding at this."

He smiled at her and bent down to kiss her on the lips. "It'll certainly be a big surprise to my mother," he murmured.

"Yes it will," she agreed and pulled him down for another kiss, pointedly ignoring the guilt in her stomach. Ted Tonks was a muggle-born and she would need him if the order was ever going to trust her.

A war was coming, maybe it had already come, she didn't know. All Andromeda knew was that the different sides were slowly becoming clear, getting more and more noticeable with each death; the Order of the Phoenix on one side and the Death Eaters on another, with a thousand smaller sides caught in the middle. A Dark Lord was rising, stirring up age old prejudice and rallying an army to his side. Andromeda had learned her history well, even the muggle parts of it, she already knows how this will end, seeing it as clearly as the happily ever after in the muggle fairy tales.

And she intended to be on the winning side when the time comes. Her sisters might call her a traitor, but then she was a Slytherin; she protected her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up is Sirius!


	3. Anger

"Master and Mistress sent for young master in the drawing room."

Sirius took a half-glance at the elf and willed himself to keep his temper in check.

"What for?" he asked.

"They did not tell Kreacher," said the elf looking at him with something like contempt.

"Fine." Sirius got up from his desk and headed over to the drawing room. Best to get this over with now and it may not end in a screaming match. Two days, he reminded himself, two days and he was gone and heading over to James'.

He knocked softly on the door, and entered without prompting. Two days, he had to keep his temper for two days.

"You sent for me?"

His mother eyed him with open dislike and his father... Well his father just eyed him. They were seated facing him and Sirius got the familiar impression he was being evaluated.

"You are joining the Death Eaters," said his mother and Sirius had to run the sentence in his mind several times before deciding that he had really heard correctly. His mother had just said that to him.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Sirius was having trouble comprehending what was happening.

"You are becoming a Death Eater like your cousin Bellatrix," repeated his mother looking at him as if he was a particularly irritating doxie that decided to take refuge in one of her curtains despite Kreacher's attempts.

Sirius clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white, as he looked into the impassive faces of his parents.

"You can't be serious," he said hotly and reminded himself to keep his temper in check; but still they couldn't possibly expect them to do this. They couldn't expect that he'd actually go through with this. What sort of person did they think Sirius was?

His mother opened her mouth in what seemed like a reprimand, but his father quickly silenced her before shooting him an irritated look. Like he was being a wayward child who enjoyed playing in the mud too much.

"This is not open for discussion Sirius," he snapped. "The Dark Lord is ushering a golden age for us wizards and he will need our support. Your cousin has already joined. What would the other families think of us if you failed to do the same?"

"Thing is dear father," said Sirius letting the sarcasm drip from his voice. "I absolutely do not give a damn about what the other families think."

"Well you should," his mother snapped, rising from her seat and stalking forward. Sirius held his ground and glared at her.

"You have already given us so much disgrace being sorted in Gryffindor." The disgust was rolling of her, and the anger. Sirius allowed the anger to fill him, enter his very soul and twist it to feel hate. That was much easier than acknowledging the hurt. "Consorting with half-bloods and mudbloods. The time for that is gone, it is time to take up your duty to your family."

"To hell with duty!" Sirius was aware that he was shouting, quite loudly actually, but he didn't particularly care at the moment. His body was tense, ready for a fight, ready to strike. So much for keeping his temper in check, a distant part of him thought wryly. "I AM NOT BECOMING A DEATH EATER"

His parents looked at him pure hate and disappointment on their faces. Sirius willed his anger show into every single crevice of his body, from the clenched fists to the hate filled eyes. He did nothing more than return everything they have given him.

His mother took out her wand and pointed at the family tapestry, hand steady, and her eyes never once leaving Sirius'.

"You will take up your duty to this family," she said her voice trembling with unmistakable anger. "You will abandon these foolish follies of yours and you will do what is expected of you."

"I won't." There was anger in his voice as well, so much anger.

"Then you will have no place in this family."

"Fine," said Sirius, surprised that his voice was once again level, calm, and even a little bit resigned, the anger draining out of him, going somewhere he didn't know. It had been a long time coming and he might have been scared once but not now. Now he only felt a sort of relief at the respite after an endless fighting. "Do it then."

He walked out of the door without a second glance at his parents and slammed it shut before he could see the unmistakable curse that will burn him from this family forever.

He didn't expect it to hurt as much as it did.

He headed towards his room and started shoving his things in his trunk. His heart wasn't hammering in his chest, and he wasn't really scared. To be perfectly honest, all he felt was slightly distant, like he was watching what was happening from very far away. He didn't expect it to happen this way.

James would call him ridiculous for expecting to be chucked out but he did, and somehow a part of him expected-no wanted-it to be more dramatic than this. He had always known it would happen of course, they barely tolerated him as it is, especially after Andromeda, but still... After all those fights, screaming matches that lasted hours that ended with curses being thrown, hiding away with James for a few days, weeks, months. But he always came back. He wasn't coming back this time and it all felt so anti-climactic. A part of him even hoped that his parents might have cared enough for...

The part of Sirius that wasn't the one that still felt calm and level and maybe a little distant almost laughed. Remus always did call him a big drama queen.

He didn't hear anything from Regulus. His brother was locked in his room, hiding, waiting out the fight, to pick up the pieces. He would've heard Sirius' name being burned off the tapestry as well and Sirius almost regretted what was happening, leaving his brother behind.

Sirius shook his head, and somehow found the anger again and let it fuel him again. He slammed his trunk shut, and shrunk it in with his wand and pocketed it. He didn't really have any money, or any idea where he would actually go, but that didn't matter very much to him at the moment. He had no home in this house anymore and he needed to get the hell away from it.

He didn't meet anyone on his way to the front door. He walked out into the cool night air and slammed the door shut, not once looking back.

The anger was overflowing again, even now as he walked away to some place better. He let it. If he was angry, then he wouldn't feel as wounded as he did.

If he was angry, then he can ignore the nagging voice in his head that screamed it was all his fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next is Regulus.


	4. Silence

The cavern felt cold and completely empty, which of course it was. It was only him and Kreacher here after all, apart from the beings guarding it, but Regulus doesn't want to think about that, not yet.

"Are you ready, Kreacher?" he murmured, and smiled a little when the trembling house-elf nodded. The question may have been cruel but it was more for Regulus' peace of mind than anything else. Besides, he's subjected Kreacher to worse things. He's about to now, and there is no room for guilt, no room for hesitation.

He crouched down low and met Kreacher's eyes. "The locket is inside the basin, yes?" the house-elf nodded. "Kreacher I order you to make me drink the potion inside-"

"But master Regulus! Kreacher should be the one-"

"I'm drinking the potion Kreacher and that's final," said Regulus firmly. "You make sure I finish it you hear, no matter what I may order you afterwards, you keep giving me the potion until it's all gone, force it on me if you have to. Do you understand?" He was looking Kreacher straight in the eye, watching his small form shake in silent torment; Kreacher nodded, however hesitantly; it was enough. He told himself again that this had to be done and didn't quite believe it. Still, he wasn't running away now, not when he was so close. He reached into the pocket of his coat and produced the replica of the locket with his letter safely tucked inside.

"Once it's all gone you take the real locket and you replace it with this," he handed the locket to Kreacher who took it with shaking hands, the poor thing was terrified and Regulus wasn't going to ease any of it. "Take the real one, go back to Grimmauld Place and do everything in your power to destroy it." It probably wouldn't work, horcruxes were most likely too powerful even for elf magic, but it was worth a shot, and it was the only shot Regulus had. "Will you do it, Kreacher?" Regulus didn't really have to ask, it just made him feel better, thinking the elf had a choice in any of this madness, thinking that at least someone did. He suspected that Kreacher knew this but was still grateful when he nodded.

"All right," he sighed, waving his wand and conjured a goblet. "Let's get this over with," and scooped a cupful of the potion and brought it to his lips.

A pain erupted through his body, as the potion passed through his throat and into his stomach, white and sharp. Screams, images of burning houses, the Dark Mark hovering over a house, the owner already dead, Regulus should know, he was the one who killed him. He saw those dead eyes, those dead, dead blank eyes staring at him, begging him for something, something he couldn't give.

Regulus realized that he had closed his eyes and forced it to open, he wouldn't go like this, not with his eyes closed and terrified, locked inside his own mind. Sirius had rubbed off on him more than either of them would care to admit.

He was holding the goblet with a white-knuckled grip, vaguely aware of Kreacher saying something; worried, soothing words probably, but it was taking all of Regulus' willpower not to scream at the pain in his body and the images in his mind. He forced his hand to reach towards the basin and scoop up another goblet full and hesitated only a second before bringing it to his lips and the onslaught of pain increased.

He fell to his knees and the goblet hit the ground with a clatter.

_Sirius was screaming, screaming and screaming, and so were their parents. So much screaming and then the door slammed shut. The silence that followed was twice as loud._

_There was that muggle woman who had looked at him with silent begging eyes, holding her unconcious son. She had begged and fell silent with the flash of green light._

_Screaming, screaming, screaming. There was so much screaming and the silence that followed felt like a knife to his heart._

He felt familiar gentle hands holding him and the cold of the goblet pressed to his lips.

"No, n-no I don't want-" he didn't know what he wanted. He never did.

"Master must drink this," the gentle voice said and Regulus focused on it, on the house-elf's terrified eyes. A little of the screaming eased. He let Kreacher pour the potion into his lips and he curled in on himself a silent scream on his lips.

_Sirius had screamed when he had first seen, and Regulus was furious and more than a little hurt._

_Regulus felt like screaming as well, when he found out what the Dark Lord had done, but he remained silent. It felt like the Cruciatus and maybe a little more._

"Please stop!" he knows he's screaming now but he doesn't care, doesn't care, because it was so much better than the silence. He drew away from the elf, curling himself into a tiny ball, he might have thought that it cared for him once but he didn't. All he could see was that cup and screaming corpses, fires burning, and endless, endless darkness.

"NO. STOP IT, STOP." The house-elf was murmuring soothing words to him, he didn't really understand but he saw its eyes and they cared so much, probably the only one to care so much.

Sirius had screamed himself hoarse the night he left. Slammed the door shut and didn't look back. Sirius had always burned bright, so very bright, always too bright for their family and in the end he outshone all of them. Bellatrix on the other hand let herself be enveloped by so much darkness and pain and screams that she almost equaled Sirius in brightness. Regulus wasn't sure Andromeda fell at all but she played with both light and darkness so well, completely uncaring of the screams around her, that it hardly mattered.

Regulus wasn't like any of them. He was the smallest star of all, made of silence and never screams. The best he could hope for was not to fade away in the dark.

He allowed the goblet to touch his lips and felt the darkness closing in, a distant voice whispering that it was over. He murmured an order for the house elf to leave, and heard the gentle pop of apparition. Regulus almost felt comforted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last is the epilogue about Narcissa


	5. Stars and Flowers

The wind blew softly under the azure sky, barely a cloud in sight. Most people thought it was fitting, three day after the great victory against the Dark Lord and not a sign of bad weather, as if the sky itself celebrated with the people. Narcissa couldn't help but agree with them, for very different reasons.

She was sitting in the meadow near their house in the country. The Blacks, not the Malfoys. Lucius and Draco were inside, still in hiding and Narcissa knew she should join them. She was just as recognizable as they were, and many would be looking, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to. There was too much darkness inside the house and Narcissa was tired of darkness. When they sat in the house, Lucius and Draco saw something old and proper, the house of an ancient pureblood family. When Narcissa stayed there she heard the echoing laughter of children from long ago, and saw the grinning face of a dead sister. On the meadow it was different. It felt just like any meadow in any other country, and Narcissa managed to feel very far away from it all.

She lay down on the grass and closed her eyes, pondering if she could fall asleep here and wake up a hundred years later. She didn't think she could bring herself to get up at the moment, so she didn't. Not even when she heard the distinct pop of someone apparating quite near her.

"You should be more careful," a familiar voice said and Narcissa felt a weight fall on the grass beside her. She kept her eyes closed, a moment then two, and opened them to reveal Andromeda. Once she might have been angry at the sight of her other sister, probably wouldn't have even acknowledged they were sisters in the first place, but the time for that was long past. The war had drained everything from her and she had gone through it twice. She didn't have the energy for anger at the moment. Especially not when the faces looking back at her was as familiar as Andromeda.

"How did you know I was here?" she asked, because she had thought it would be at least a week before anyone found them here and it had only been three days.

"I didn't" admitted Andromeda. "I'm here for the same reason as you are I suppose."

Narcissa pondered on that. The five of them had practically grown up here, playing and laughing in this very meadow. It was brighter than most parts of their lives.

"It is calming," she said because it was. Happy memories existed in this meadow in a way that it didn't exist anywhere else.

"We're the last left," she said to Andromeda because they were. The idea brought a strange feeling to her stomach that Narcissa didn't care to decipher at the moment.

"Funny how everything turned out in the end isn't it?" There was an amused tint in Andromeda's voice and Narcissa thought she understood.

They were the only ones left, the only two Blacks, the only ones left who had spent their summers in the house and playing in this meadow and the rest of the year being buried in the dark arts. They were the last children of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Blacks, the last keepers of its secrets and they didn't even bear the name any more.

The traitor and the flower.

Neither of them were worthy, not for this.

"I never expected to last this long," she admitted and then Andromeda's eyes turned to her and Narcissa could practically touch the incredulity.

"What?" she asked. Narcissa didn't understand what was so surprising, she was Narcissa and they all shone so much brighter than her.

"You were always the one who would outlive all of us flower," It had been a pet name, a joke between them. Narcissa, the only one named after a flower amidst cousins and siblings named after the stars. The one trapped on the ground, gazing longingly as everyone else shone so very bright.

"And you were the stars," she said and they were. They all shone so bright, they would all be remembered, and Narcissa was here, hiding out in her childhood home.

"Everything that burns bright doesn't burn very long," said Andromeda softly. "And all the stars eventually fall from the skies."

Narcissa didn't say anything, but pondered on what had happened to all of them.

Sirius who had burned brighter than anyone else and eventually burned himself out, Bellatrix who had fought all her life, the very joy of being contrary sustaining her, Andromeda who was left alone by everyone she loved in the end and her prince nowhere to be found, and Regulus who was small and still tried so hard to be brave and shine as bright as everyone else, only to be forgotten because there was always someone brighter. They all fell in the end, and here was Narcissa who somehow remained mostly intact. Or as intact as anyone could ever be after living through two wars.

"What about the flowers?" she asked and Andromeda laughed. It didn't sound very happy.

"They're the ones who wants to be a star even as they watch them fall and burn themselves out, and eventually they'll wilt and nobody will notice, because there's a hundred others to take their place place."

Andromda didn't say anything after that. Just stared at the sky, dreaming of something Narcissa couldn't see and couldn't possibly know.

She didn't know what was better, to burn so short but so bright, to be remembered forever, or to live long and happy but always longing to reach something they could never reach?

Narcissa closed her eyes again. Draco was alive and so was Lucius and that had to be enough for her but in someway it wasn't. They were alive but so many weren't. So many stars had fallen and so many others had risen and she was still here, still watching and still alive, rooted in family and traditions that had lasted a thousand years. One day she will wilt and die and they would only remember her as the husband of Lucius Malfoy and the sister of Bellatrix Lestrange, there but always ignored. She didn't know if that was a blessing or a curse.

Somehow she didn't care either way.


End file.
